Frenchmen in the AIF: French–Australian identities during the First World War

Introduction

In 2018, the centenary year of the First World War armistice, much reflection was directed towards the connections between Australia and France that were forged on the Western Front, and which for many Australians are epitomised through the Australian National Memorial at Villers-Bretonneux and the recently opened John Monash Centre. Australians have collectively focused attention on France and the evolving relationship between the two countries. In this context, I propose to examine a lesser-known aspect of this shared history which played out on the home front. This article examines the French-born members of the first Australian Imperial Force (AIF). As French citizens who were living in Australia in 1914, they were legally bound to undertake French military service. As part of Australia’s French community they were presented with a dilemma: not just whether to enlist, but also the choice of whether to join the French or the Australian army. This article will ask what sort of men chose the AIF, and what motivated this choice. It seeks to place the responses and experiences of these ‘French Diggers’ within the context of the French community in Australia, thus providing a prism through which to understand Franco-Australian identities in Australia at the time.

1914: the call to arms

In 1914, shortly after the outbreak of war, the Melbourne-based French vice-consul, Jules Homéry, was busily carrying out his duties in response to the French government’s order for mobilisation. It was his responsibility to locate and contact the French citizens residing in Australia, and ensure they reported for duty. Some would prove harder to locate than others. Thus, in September 1914, Homéry wrote to Atlee Hunt, the Secretary of the Department of External Affairs:

I have been informed that a certain number of Frenchmen resident of Melbourne, several of which are liable to military service in France, have been enlisted among the troops of the Australian Forces going to the front. It will greatly oblige me if you would kindly let me have the names of these men. ¹

Also in Melbourne at this time, Lt. Col. Richard Courtney was busy at the headquarters of the newly formed 14th Battalion. Creating a new volunteer army brought all sorts of challenges, but both Courtney and Atlee Hunt had been considering what sort of men would be useful in this new army. In November Courtney wrote to Homéry:

Under instructions from Military Headquarters, Australian Commonwealth, I am to enlist if possible eight French Subjects who can read or write English fairly well, with the object of utilising their services as interpreters if necessary with the Battalion under my command . . . I would be greatly obliged if you could put me in communication with likely men to whom, in your opinion, this proposal would appeal. ²

A few days later Atlee Hunt wrote a similar request. The vice-consul’s reply was unequivocal:

Outside of those who may have enlisted already without my consent and knowledge in the Australian Expeditionary force, I do not know of a single able-bodied Frenchman here, under 49 years of age, who is at liberty to enlist in a foreign although allied army, as you are probably not ignorant of the fact that all Frenchmen, whether residing in French territory or elsewhere, have the sacred duty to join their own colours in time of war especially, or remain at the disposal of the country. ³

Indeed, many young Frenchmen did leave Australia to serve under the French flag. Moreover, some French–Australian families had registered their locally born children with the consulate, ensuring they retained their parents’ nationality and preserving the ties to la patrie. Thus, young men born and educated in Australia could also be liable for French military service. Some belonged to prominent French–Australian families such as the Crivellis of Melbourne, the Playousts of Sydney and the De Pierres in Western Australia (De Pierres, 2014; Dwyer, 2017; Nettelbeck, 2015). However, in spite of the consul’s efforts many did not ‘join the colours’. For the French government, they would be branded as deserters or ‘insoumis’. ⁴ When war was declared, a number of Frenchmen were living in Australia as deserters. In 1914, those who came forward, repenting of their crime and agreeing to return to France immediately to serve, were granted an amnesty. ⁵ In Australia, however, distance and the jurisdiction of Australian rather than French law meant the consul only had limited recourse to coerce men into fulfilling their military obligations, should they be reluctant.

For those who joined the AIF, the initial step in the enlistment process was the attestation paper. As well as declaring his commitment to serve voluntarily in the AIF, the recruit was required to provide a range of personal details, including his place of birth, and whether he was a ‘natural born British Subject’ or a ‘Naturalised British Subject’. If naturalised he was required to show his papers, as policy stipulated that recruits be British subjects. Reflecting the still strong ties of empire, anyone born in Australia was classed as a British subject. The enlistment documents held by the National Archives of Australia, held as NAA Series B2455, are a treasure-trove for historians of the First World War, as well as genealogists. Those who listed France as their place of birth will form the basis of this article, which will analyse them within the context of the local France–Australia relationship. By contrasting the choices of these men with those who joined the French army, and by examining French as well as Australian sources, this article aims to illuminate the push and pull of different allegiances and pressures which surrounded their choices.

A variety of scholarly works document the multicultural nature of the AIF, examining the presence of soldiers from different ethnic groups and placing them in the context of their respective immigrant experiences (Bou and Dennis, 2016; Dapin, 2017; Govor, 2005; Williams, 2003). Such work fits within the broader historiography of Australia’s involvement in the war, as historians in recent years have questioned the Anzac myth and the previously accepted stereotypical image of the Digger (Clark, 2017; Holbrook, 2014; Lake et al., 2010). The current widespread interest of Australians in knowing who the Anzacs really were, and understanding their experiences and their diversity, is associated with the ‘memory boom’ and the growing popularity of family history, as well as the centenary of the Great War (Ziino, 2010, 2015).

For the French presence in Australia during this period, Dwyer’s comprehensive survey of the Sydney wool-buying community provides a personal perspective of one particular group, many of whom travelled from Sydney to fight in the French army (Dwyer, 2017).

Recently Agutter (2017) has outlined the multicultural nature of the AIF with a broader brush, showing its wide range of different nationalities and the challenges inherent for any recruit who was not ‘British’. However, in other existing studies of the composition of the AIF, the participation of the French has not been discussed. As Agutter concludes, it is fitting to place the experiences of foreign-born soldiers in the AIF both within the context of the multicultural society in Australia to which they belonged, as well as within the wider narrative of Australia’s connections to the rest of the world. This article aims to fulfil both those tasks for the French.

Identity, nationality and birthplace

The question of nationality and national identity is not always straightforward when analysing the foreign-born members of the AIF. One reason was the fluidity of movement by migrants who finally arrived in Australia. Another was the multiplicity of ethnic identities, across and within empires. Therefore, the attestation paper is only the beginning in identifying those who belong to a particular group, and naturalisation and other records are an important complementary source (Agutter, 2017: 11–12).

This one common element – birthplace – contrasts with the diversity of the men themselves and reveals the complexity of ideas of national identity, nationality and allegiance. In the AIF there were also many others who were French speakers, or who identified as French – whether born in French territories such as New Caledonia or born in Australia to French families. Their stories provide a window into the French population in Australia during the war.

These men varied widely in their backgrounds, their social status, their professions, and their contribution to the war effort. Just as varied must have been the motivation behind each man’s decision to join the AIF. Below I will present some of the different character profiles of these men and show how they illustrate a range of possible reasons for enlistment. Some were heroes and patriots, some more flawed characters. Whether driven by local loyalties, the chance to get away from someone or an opportunity to get back home, they made a conscious choice to join the AIF. It must be noted, however, that while much can be deduced from some of the individual trajectories of these soldiers, in the absence of clear evidence the conclusions as to their motivations must remain speculation. In addition, I suggest that, for some, their socio-economic status in the community could also have been a factor.

By carefully examining the detailed information in each military file it is also possible to get a better idea of the cultural identity of many of these men. Hence, although 170 men listed France as their place of birth on their attestation paper, there were about 20 who, judging from the personal information in their records, should be counted as British rather than French. Families were living in France, perhaps for extended holidays or for work, when these men were born. Alfred Parish, born in Paris, requested to stay in England after he was discharged: ‘I have all my people here in England and also my wife.’ ⁶ Howard Cunningham, born in Chantilly, stated ‘I was born in France while my people was visiting that country.’ ⁷ Among the group there were also about 30 who did not go on active service overseas. They were either rejected due to health reasons or because they were too old, while others deserted soon after enlisting, and a small number joined the army in the late stages of the war. ⁸

Of the foreign-born soldiers in the AIF, the French were in a unique position, even when compared to those of the other Allied nations. As Govor (2005) explained, Russian immigrants faced difficulties, as they had little prospect of returning to their own country to join up. The Russian consul-general initially attempted to enforce his government’s call for all reservists to return to serve in the Russian army. However, this would have been impractical and beyond the means of many. In contrast, contingents of Frenchmen did leave Australia on a French Messageries Maritime ship, to join up with their units in France (Dwyer, 2017). Another contingent left Melbourne in October 1914 on the Messageries Maritime ship Dumbea.

By 1915 the Australian government had introduced a policy to restrict granting citizenship to foreign-born men of military age. This would encourage citizens of Allied countries to fulfil their military service obligations. ⁹ Gildas Toumelin, a labourer and former sailor from Brittany, was one of many whose application for citizenship was rejected in May 1916 with the words: ‘certificates of naturalisation are not being issued at the present time to Frenchmen under 50 years of age’. ¹⁰ Nevertheless he joined the AIF a month later, as a French citizen.

Although allies, the French and the Russians were classed as aliens in the same way as any foreign-born resident, and subject to the Alien Registration law of October 1916. By 1916 the Russian consul-general and the Australian government had combined to put particularly harsh pressure on Russians to join the AIF. As non-naturalised aliens they could face discrimination and hardship if they did not enlist (Govor, 2005: 73–5). Hence, as Agutter (2017) has pointed out, Russians formed the greatest number of enlistees from non-Anglo countries. ¹¹ However, the situation differed for the French. Pressure continued throughout the war for Frenchmen to serve under their own flag. Those wishing to report to their units in France but without sufficient funds could appeal to the French vice-consul. Financial support was sometimes offered in the form of subsidised fares, which was the case for some of those who had travelled on the Dumbea. ¹²

As Stuer’s (1982) landmark demographic analysis of the French presence in Australia pointed out, there were around 900 French-born men of military age living in Australia according the census of 1911. Of these, the 170 who joined the AIF represent a small proportion. A greater number joined the French army but it is not possible to give an exact number. However, the participation of French-born soldiers in the AIF leads to a fascinatingly complex picture. The AIF also included soldiers who spoke French, whose families identified as French, but who were born in Australia. In some cases, they had been registered as French citizens with the consul. For each one their enlistment choice would have meant weighing up both patriotic and practical considerations.

Motivations for enlistment in the AIF have been well analysed by historians (Beaumont, 2013; Bou and Dennis, 2016; Gammage, 1975). However, for many of the French-born soldiers the decision entailed an extra level of complexity. For some the act of joining the AIF was an affirmation of their ties to their adopted country. Many had established a life in Australia, made friendships, and so wanted to join up with mates. For some there was also a practical aspect: the rate of pay was higher in the Australian army. For others, the very reason they were in Australia was to escape the control of the French government. Some had left France to avoid military service or, having completed their military service, wanted the freedom of no longer being tied to their ongoing duties in the reserve army. Implicit in this was perhaps a rejection of the compulsory nature of the French army, and a preference to join up as a volunteer rather than being obliged.

French military service obligations

When war was declared, the consul began the necessary arrangements for the call-up of French men of military age living in Australia. Some of them had previously fulfilled their obligations, and as reservists were now required to report. Others had just reached the appointed age. All French men were required to do three years of military service, reporting for duty during the year they turned 20. Recruitment offices, which were located in towns throughout France, kept lists of men in their district. After the completion of this three-year term, soldiers became part of the reserve army and were required to be available for duty up to the age of 49.

In principle this worked quite well for the majority of citizens who stayed in or near their place of birth. In Australia, it was more complex but not impossible to keep track of most of them. The French consul-general in Sydney, M. Chayet and M. Homéry in Melbourne maintained lists of men for their respective areas.

Chayet was the first to announce the mobilisation and called for all French citizens to return to France. On 4 August 1914 the call to arms appeared in newspapers throughout the country, in the capital cities and regional towns. ¹³ In September the call was repeated by Homéry in Melbourne, with further announcements sent out via all the main daily newspapers. ¹⁴

As the Sydney consular documents of that period are lost to us, we can never be sure how many men were on that consul’s list. But by examining the documents in the archive of the Melbourne consul, we are able to get an idea of the sorts of men they were. Some had jumped ship, never expecting to see France again. Some had married Australian wives and lived ordinary lives working at their trade. Others were high-profile, from successful families and well-known to the consul. Personalised letters were sent to those whose whereabouts he knew, in addition to the general appeals made via the press. In September the instructions were more specific – Frenchmen between the ages of 21 and 48 were to report. ¹⁵

British or aliens?

The AIF required volunteers to be British subjects, and if not ‘natural born British’ then the applicant needed to show his naturalisation papers. However, men born in France were still considered French citizens and therefore subject to French law. This would complicate things for some recruits and give the consul a great deal of extra paperwork. As the war progressed more avenues appeared for the consul to identify and locate these men. Issues of citizenship and naturalisation were further complicated by the introduction of the Aliens Registration law (War Precautions Act) in October 1916. At this time both countries were keenly feeling the great loss of men on the Western Front and pressure grew for remaining men to enlist.

While there were some who became naturalised to facilitate their enlistment in the AIF, they were by no means the majority. Others had done so prior to the war, and others still served in the AIF and only became ‘British subjects’ in later years. As previously pointed out, during the latter half of the war naturalisation was suspended. Therefore, many Frenchmen would be compelled to register as aliens. This inspired the French consul-general, M. Chayet to approach the Australian government, requesting a list of all the Frenchmen who had registered. One government member he could certainly rely on to support his cause was the Francophile Premier of New South Wales, Sir William Holman (Donohoo, 2016). Pressed to respond, Australian government officials discussed how to help the French government locate its citizens, while acknowledging that in Australia, Australian law must be applied. Therefore, the French government could not legally force men to sign up.

Chayet has been making representations to Holman that there are in NSW about 100 Frenchmen who are subject to military duty in France but who have not reported for such service and the Consul desires to be informed whether there is any law under which these men can be compelled to report. ¹⁶

One department official wondered whether the Australian government could organise for the reluctant Frenchmen to be deported to New Caledonia, and once there they would be subject to French law. Upon reflection this option was ultimately rejected.

The officials needed to tread a diplomatic path between the pressure from France via its consul-general, and their regard for Australian procedures. Chayet’s request was considered thus:

referring to the request by the French Consul-General to be furnished with a list of French citizens who have registered under the Aliens registration regulations . . . I am not sure that the French Consul-General is not asking a great deal too much . . . regret that it is not practicable to comply with request.

And handwritten at the bottom: ‘PS: Suppose all the consuls made the same request’. ¹⁷

So, if the consul was relying on this special relationship in order to get extra help, the public servants were not buying it! However, in 1918, the pressure paid off, and lists of those Frenchmen who had registered were eventually provided to the consul-general. Although by this time the war was nearing its end, France was eventually successful in using its special status to influence the minister and the civil servants. ¹⁸

There are many sources for statistics about the AIF. As Bou and Dennis (2016) argue, an analysis of statistics contributes to a better understanding of the AIF’s nature, and the valuable data provided in their profile of the AIF builds on Beaumont’s landmark study (2001). How did our Frenchmen compare? With regards to their professions, about 10 per cent were cooks, chefs, waiters; and about 20 per cent were labourers, farmers, gardeners, or miners. (This is consistent with AIF figures: see Bou and Dennis, 2016: 82–3.) For the Frenchmen, the category of labourer also covered several former sailors, demonstrating this as an achievable transition back to on-shore life for those who had left their ships while in Australia, whether legally or illegally. There seem to have been more seafarers among the French-born group: 6 per cent compared with 2.2 per cent in the AIF overall, but two of these were discharged as medically unfit before even serving. Other professions included hairdresser, and wool buyer (reflecting the strong presence of the wool-buying community based in Sydney, most of whom joined the French army).

We can also consider the ages of these men and what this may reveal. In June 1915 the AIF’s maximum age for enlistment was changed from 38 to 45 years. Twenty-seven of the French-born enlistees in the AIF were between the ages of 40 and 50, around 18 per cent, and a few of these lied about their age. This is quite different from the AIF’s figure of 5 per cent of enlistees aged between 40 and 45 (Beaumont, 2001). However, many of these older men found they were not physically up to the harsh conditions and were discharged with health issues. Many were rejected as unfit before even going overseas. What were the implications for those older French-born men, who were in fact not fit, for trying to join the Australian army? Perhaps it was easier to at least try, and then to have proof that they had made the attempt. As the war progressed there was growing pressure on men to explain why they had not enlisted.

As with the AIF more generally, the French-born Diggers included both dubious characters, patriots and heroes, and everything in between. Seven of them deserted and seven were court-martialled. Four of them won the Military Medal and one was awarded the Croix de Guerre.

Among those decorated for bravery was Joseph Varcin of the Varcin family, farmers of Wallumbilla, Queensland. They came from the Savoy region of France, arriving in 1910 after an unsuccessful stint as farmers in Algeria. There were five sons, three of whom enlisted in the AIF. Stemmler (2015) describes the Varcin family’s arrival in Queensland and the difficulties caused by their lack of English. Getting lost on their way to their farm, they were helped by a local Italian farmer who could speak the Savoy dialect. In spite of the family’s circuitous journey to rural Queensland, they were still monitored. The eldest son, Jean-Baptiste Emmanuel, had already been declared a deserter by the French government. He had come up against the all-powerful consul’s reach soon after arriving in Australia, when correspondence was exchanged in 1911 between government officials as to his obligation to serve in the military. ‘He has been in Australia about one year and is not naturalised.’ He expressed his unwillingness to return to France, unsurprisingly given he had just started establishing his new farm. ¹⁹

Joseph was the first son to join the AIF in 1915, aged 23. He was awarded the military medal in May 1917. Felix enlisted in 1916, aged 24, and the youngest brother Marcel also joined up in 1916 aged just 18. His twin brother Constant stayed at home with their mother and father, because ‘they needed someone at home who spoke English’. Marcel, fighting with the 15th Battalion tragically died of wounds on 12 August 1918.

The Varcins demonstrated a strong connection to Australia created after just a short period of residence. By contrast Jean-Pierre Becker was a long-time resident. A medical orderly living in Adelaide, he was born in Paris. He joined up in August 1914, one day after being naturalised, at the age of 49. In Australia he had worked as a chemist dispenser, and in France been in the volunteer medical corps. He had arrived in Australia in 1892, but English was not his best of the four languages he spoke. According to his records, he spoke French and German fluently. The recruiting officer noted ‘he will be useful’. ²⁰ He was wounded three times, was awarded the Military Medal in September 1917 near Ypres, for bravery establishing forward aid posts under fire.

Medric Fraillon had already served three years with the French navy. He was 42 years old and an engine driver living in Geelong when he enlisted in January 1917 and joined the railway unit. On 19 November 1917 he was awarded the Croix de Guerre for conspicuous bravery, when a tractor pulling two trucks of ammunition was hit by a shell and caught fire. ²¹ Prior to his enlistment, he demonstrated a strong connection to France in his 1915 correspondence with the Defence Department. Obviously fascinated by machines, he offered detailed letters outlining his ideas for technical inventions which would help win the war. He quoted his beloved France as his inspiration and signed the letters ‘yours in freedom’. ²²

There were also some flawed characters among the French-born members of the AIF. One interesting example was Louis Le Cor, an engineer living in Broken Hill. Firstly, he lied about his age. He stated his age as 44 in 1916 when he joined up, but by 1918 when he was discharged due to ill health (partly caused by an injury) he was 53. Although not under any obligation to join up, he perhaps saw it as an opportunity – a chance to get away from something. In July 1918 he was discharged but requested to be posted to a munitions factory in England rather than return to Australia. In November 1918 he asked for his passport and one month’s leave to visit his family in France to help sort out his brother’s affairs. This was extended by a further month in December. Subsequently all letters, telegrams and embarkation instructions to him were left unanswered.

Meanwhile, in August 1918 a Miss E. Falle of Sydney had written to the army to obtain his address: ‘as I want to send him a Christmas parcel’. On 8 December she wrote again to army records: ‘I have not heard from him since July, could you let me know his whereabouts as I am the only one in Australia who corresponds with him.’ The final letter from army records to Miss Falle dated January 1919 explained:

I have to inform you no definite advice has yet been received as to his return, but on receipt of this information his next-of-kin will be immediately advised, who in this case is his wife, who resides in Broken Hill.

Louis Le Cor seems to have vanished in France, leaving both his wife and Miss Falle wondering.

For others, the upheaval of war may have presented a chance to get back home. Pierre-Marie Gueno was a 20-year-old sailor, one of several sailors or ex-sailors in the group examined, and possibly one of the many who jumped ship in Australia. He joined up in January 1916 in Brisbane and was assigned to the 25th Battalion. He listed his mother in Dieppe as his next-of-kin. After training in Australia and England he finally got to France in April 1917. He had a problematic war. His service record shows a long list of misdemeanours, some minor and some serious, including numerous times going absent without leave, even absconding while in hospital. On 29 October 1917 he was gassed. He was court-martialled in August 1918 for a self-inflicted injury to his right hand – by administering a caustic substance rendering him unfit for service. However, he survived the war and in August 1919 he went back to his mother in Dieppe.

Charles Joseph and Mary Join were married in Binic, a small town in Brittany in 1912. Aged 29, he was a cook and had spent five years in the French navy. He joined up in Adelaide but not until April 1918. Mary, his next-of-kin, was still in Binic. Enlisting so late in the war meant that he avoided time at the front, and his ten-month stint in the AIF resulted in a trip home. At the end of the war, he applied to be discharged in the UK, and went to join Mary in Binic.

By contrast, Leon Piollet, a ‘teacher of languages’ wanted to avoid going to France. He was prepared to go on active service, although he had already served some of his time in the French army. But at the age of 38 and having spent time in Brazil before coming to Australia, he was determined not to return to a cold climate. So he wrote a letter (successfully) requesting to be assigned to the camel corps serving in the Middle East. ²³

Linguistic contributions

The initial judgement of Lt. Col. Courtney that French-speaking men in the AIF would be advantageous was of course correct. However, only a small number of these men contributed their language skills in an official capacity. Pierre Barbeau and Gontran de Tournouer were each briefly posted as interpreters but were soon discharged from the army with health problems. ²⁴ Once the AIF was in France, interpreters posted to Australian battalions were generally French, in accordance with British army policy (Greenhalgh, 2005, 2011; Heimburger, 2012). ²⁵ Jacques Playoust, of Sydney, became a French army officer and was posted to an Australian unit as an interpreter (Dwyer, 2017). Conversely, there were many Australian or British-born French speakers who contributed significantly to communication and interpreting. One of these was A. R. Chisholm, later to become Professor of French at the University of Melbourne. ²⁶

Émile Gané, 44 years old from Morbihan, Brittany, was an ‘experienced soldier’ who had served eight years in the French army. For him, knowledge of English was the problem: at attestation he had the questions interpreted for him. Too old for active combat, he served in support roles in France. ²⁷

There were many ‘British subjects’ in the AIF who spoke French. But for the monolingual English-speaking soldier on the Western Front, his engagement with and knowledge of the language ranged from formal school settings, to the distribution of phrase books, to the comical self-deprecating attempts described in trench journals such as Aussie (Duché and de Saint Léger, 2016; Laugesen, 2005, 2015). One can assume that a French speaker would have been a useful member of the battalion in many unofficial and informal situations. However, the AIF Education Service, set up at the end of the war to prepare soldiers for re-entry into civilian life, presented an additional context in which to make use of the AIF’s French citizens. Among them were Raphael San George, a chef and fruit farmer born in Monte Carlo, and Joseph Georgelin (this author’s grandfather). A gardener by profession, Georgelin was nonetheless trained and appointed as a language instructor at the end of the war and taught French to his fellow soldiers while they waited for demobilisation and return to Australia, and on the voyage back home.

Frenchmen were also part of the Australian Flying Corps and the Central Flying School at Point Cook. One of them was Jean-Claude Marduel, born in Lyon. An adventurous man with a colourful past, he had arrived in Australia in 1908 and set himself up as a teacher of languages, the principal of the Berlitz School of Sydney. In advertisements for this ‘brand new method from Europe’ he labelled himself as an ‘Officer de l’Academie’ (sic). ²⁸ In 1908 he won a legal dispute over the use of the name Berlitz. ²⁹ He was also a motorcyclist: in January 1911 he competed in the Melbourne to Sydney motorcycle race. ³⁰

It was the arrival of the French aviator Maurice Guillaux that set Marduel’s career on a different course. He attached himself to Guillaux and learned to fly, later being referred to as Guillaux’s pupil. During late 1914 he was fêted as a French aviator in the press, flew from Melbourne to Sydney, and took numerous passengers up for flights, including a cabinet minister. ³¹ Firmly established at the Richmond airfield (which would later become the RAAF Richmond Base), he was ‘in charge of the aviation grounds since M. Guillaux’s departure to the war’. ³²

Eventually, in March 1916, he also enlisted, and became a member of the Australian Flying Corps, serving with No. 1 Squadron, based in Heliopolis, Egypt. However, his active service did not last long, and he was discharged in September 1916 due to health issues. It was after his return that he applied for citizenship. He had listed his profession as airplane mechanic.

The process of his enlistment is an example of the sometimes confused way in which nationality and citizenship requirements for the AIF were interpreted and implemented. Even though Marduel had been mentioned in the press as a French aviator, when he enlisted in 1916 he declared that he was born in St Helier, Jersey, in the Channel Islands. ³³ However, later that year when applying for citizenship, he was forced to confess that he had invented this story:

they wanted to know at the Recruiting Office whether I was naturalized or not, and as there was no time for me to go through the formalities I said I was born in an English country where French is spoken, thus accounting for my French accent. ³⁴

By May 1917 he had moved to Victoria and was an instructor at the Central Flying School in Laverton. ³⁵

Naturalisation and citizenship would continue to be issues for many of the Frenchmen in the AIF upon their return to Australia. Some found the Alien Registration requirements to be an annoyance, which necessitated informing and updating the local police of one’s address. In civilian life it was simpler and could also be advantageous to be an Australian citizen. Such was the case for Henry Papeil, from Brittany, who had served on Gallipoli. His attestation says ‘papers to be forwarded’ so he had evidently claimed to be naturalised. ³⁶ He eventually did so in 1920. He was attempting to buy land in Queensland made available for ex-soldiers at a good price, but he could only take advantage of this if he was naturalised. The supporting reference stated that ‘he would make a good British subject’. ³⁷

Motivations: prestige versus anonymity?

A high proportion of French immigrants to Australia between 1891 and 1911 were labourers or in lower-skilled occupations and service industries (Stuer, 1982: 154–5). Could socio-economic status have had some bearing on the choice between the French and Australian armies? Doctor Marcel Crivelli, a prominent member of Melbourne’s French community, was responsible for the medical examinations of recruits to the French army. On 16 November 1914 Doctor Crivelli wrote to the French vice-consul lamenting the fact that the latest group of six young men who had been called up had not appeared for their medical examinations. He condemned this lack of enthusiasm, complaining that it would bring shame on the French community: ‘they will no longer dare to call themselves Frenchmen’. ³⁸ If ‘naming and shaming’ was a risk for those who were more successful and had a higher standing in the community, then, conversely, those in the lower socio-economic group perhaps had less to lose in terms of their image and status.

Of course, there were exceptions to this, such as Henri Lamandé, one of those young men on the list who had raised the ire of Doctor Crivelli. Although born in Victoria, he was a French citizen and came from a well-known French family in Melbourne. His mother was on the committee of the Alliance Française. His sister, an accomplished musician, often gave recitals at fundraising functions organised by the Alliance Française. Lamandé, like Marduel the aviator, was a motorcycling enthusiast. He had competed in a 100 km motorcycle race and ran a company importing motor bikes. Perhaps his choice to join the AIF, in November 1915, was because he was not a conformist, but rather a ‘free spirit’ who did not want to be compelled to go, but who volunteered to go.

High prestige could come with a price though. René Chaleyer was from a wealthy Melbourne trading family. In 1915, Doctor Crivelli deemed Chaleyer fit to go and fight in the French army, and he would go on to be awarded the Croix de Guerre. However, when it was time to come back home, his father was obliged to write several letters pleading with the French government to organise his repatriation, an ironic contrast to those who had absconded back in France. ³⁹

Conclusion

This article has examined a group of soldiers with one thing in common: that they were born in France and went on active service in the AIF. I have shown that for the young men of Australia who had French nationality or background the decision to enlist could be a complex one. Notwithstanding the public expressions of mutual admiration and affection between Australia and France, for the French vice-consul the Australian army was still ‘foreign although Allied’ and the French government retained its claim on far-off French citizens. In this environment of pressure from the French government and expectations from some members of the local French community, along with the naturalisation requirements and later the Alien Registration law, the decision to enlist in the AIF had various possible implications. For some, it signalled the forging of ties to their adopted country, or the confirmation of a strong connection which already existed. For others, perhaps the simplest and fastest route to fight for the common Allied cause was via their local AIF recruiting office. However, the special significance of France and Frenchness which was portrayed in the press – the Glorious, Noble and Valiant Ally – did not always connect to the personal experiences of these men.

In asking what sort of people they were and what governed their choices, this examination of French Diggers has demonstrated the diversity and individualism which characterised the French migrant population in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. This supports Stuer’s thesis that the French who migrated to Australia did so as individuals, ‘to do their own thing’, and with the exception of the Sydney wool-buying community, showed little interest in recreating their home communities in Australia (Stuer, 1982).

The range of their responses and experiences, as revealed through their military files and other documents examined here, reflects a much more varied cross-section of society, which allows us to transcend the popular contemporary stereotypes of France. Sailors, labourers, professional men, deserters, patriots and heroes, young and old – their diversity is nonetheless also indicative of the diversity of the French population from which they came. The personal information which is available in their Australian military files tells us a French migration story as well as a military one.

Moreover, the official correspondence regarding their choices reveals the wider story of the conflicting and multifaceted requirements of the French and Australian governments and provides an insight into the relationship between the two countries as it played out at a local level. Although space limits this article mostly to French-born Diggers, the archives are full of many other characters who exemplified the fluid movement between countries and between cultures exemplified by Henri Lamandé: French-speaking soldiers who did join the AIF and who were linguistically and culturally identified as French, although not actually born in France.

Their stories allow us to explore the many aspects of Franco-Australian identity which were expressed during the war, and thus to better understand the significant and complex relationship between Australia and France which played out on the home front during this period.